


Some Assembly Required

by HydraHottie



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-07
Updated: 2014-08-07
Packaged: 2018-02-12 04:17:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2095491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HydraHottie/pseuds/HydraHottie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She seems to come back to him piece by piece, before he's the one who gets put back together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Some Assembly Required

She had been avoiding him. Very successfully, in fact. In the two weeks he’d spent back with the team, he had yet to see her once. Well, see her in person that is. He had seen her on the mission reports and the security footage that he most certainly didn’t watch when he was missing her. 

A small part of him, the part that had been her SO, was impressed and a little bit proud at how good she was at avoiding him. He mused on this as he took his frustration out on a punching bag. He felt a prickling on the back of his neck, feeling as though someone was watching him. He turned to look up at the railing above him, but all he saw was dark hair as it whipped around the corner.

He went back to punching the bag and tried to erase what had happened from his mind. It was probably May. Not her. She was avoiding him and hated him and had every goddamn reason and right to.

And yet… Coulson had allowed him back on the team, allowed him to help rebuild the organization he had a hand in destroying and he had not allowed him the reason why. He knew Coulson believed in second chances, but someone convinced him or at least suggested it.

He pushed away that train of thought with fifty pushups.

(-:-)

Missions come and go and s.h.i.e.l.d rises back up, slowly but surely. They’ve been sent to recover some Chitauri technology when he hears her voice crackle through the Comms. He’s by no means a sentimental or easily swayed person but, the sound of it could be enough to make his knees buckle. But he reigns himself in and elbows another aggressor in the stomach.

She’s asking for backup and he wants run to her but a hand wraps around his foot pulling him to the ground for an unexpected floor fight that he quickly wins. But before he can even get back on his feet, Tripp is already there to help her. He tells himself all that matters is that she’s protected and that at this point she probably trusts Tripp to do that more than she does him. But he still wishes he was the one protecting her. 

Despite himself he can hear her voice in his head, (that’s most definitely not over the comms) saying that she can protect herself.

After all I was trained by the robot himself.

(-:-)

He comes into the kitchen one morning to find it smelling of coconut shampoo, lavender soap, and pancakes and the familiarity of it almost floors him. There are tracks of wet footsteps, size seven, on the kitchen floor leading to her bunk. 

He composes himself quickly though, as Fitzsimmons greet him with a synchronised “morning”. He returns the hello and happily accepts the pancakes and coffee they offer him. They babble on about new tech they’ve designed based on some scientist or others theories and he ‘hmms’ and nods in all the right places. It doesn’t matter that he doesn’t remember a word of it.

(-:-)

There’s a knock on his door, but he wouldn’t give this nap up for anything in the world. He had just gotten back from a two week long undercover mission and everything hurt. While it had been a successful mission, his body sure as hell didn’t feel like it. He hadn’t gotten more than four hours sleep per night and the stab wound in his side wasn’t making things any better. 

He shut his eyes tighter and prayed to every different deity that whoever it was would just let him rest in peace.

He hears something being slid under his door and opens his eyes enough to see a small hand slide his mission debrief into his room. Bolting out of bed with energy he didn’t know he had, he gets the door open just in time to see her. Or rather, see her foot as she turns into her own bunk.

He curses to himself and the nap that follows isn’t quite as satisfying as it should have been.

(-:-)

The first time Simmons and Fitz say her name in front of him while telling a story they immediately stop talking and stare at him, looking like they expect him to either explode or start crying. He smiles and gestures for them to continue and they do so with relief.

Then the stories come pouring out like a dam had been destroyed just by the use of her name. Skye did this, Skye saved them, Skye, Skye, Skye.

And then in a story that slips through the cracks when Skye convinced Coulson to let you come back.

(-:-)

The previous times he had almost seen her had been glimpses and accidents. And when she first fully came back to him he had a feeling she hadn’t intended to yet.

He had been gone on yet another undercover mission, (he knew Coulson had forgiven him, but he wouldn’t miss Ward in the same way he would the other agents on long OPs). He hadn’t been due back for another week, but happily he got all the information needed along with permission from Coulson to drop the OP. Returning from it had been quiet given his arriving at one in the morning.

And while he was tired, he wasn’t so tired that he didn’t notice when someone was already sleeping in his bed. He dropped his bag by the door and sat down on the bed. Skye was curled into a little ball under the sheets and he could see she was wearing one of his softer black shirts. He had thought about seeing her again so many different time, so many different ways, (despite the voice in his head telling him he had no right to her anymore).

And despite all those fantasies… he had no idea what the hell to do. Thankfully, Skye was a light sleeper from waking up for training and she groggily turned over to look at him. And Grant Ward would have never been ready in a million years for what happened next.

She smiled at him. A tired half smile that made him think maybe she was still partially asleep and had no idea who he was. But then her voice came out, a little cracked and groggy but probably the best sound he’d ever heard.

“Hey, Robot.”


End file.
